


My Name on Your Lips

by TheShipSailsItself



Series: Will They, Won't They (Ever Be Finished) [1]
Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Amnesia, F/M, James Westwell
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-21
Packaged: 2020-07-10 07:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19902355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheShipSailsItself/pseuds/TheShipSailsItself
Summary: He misses all the different ways his name would fall from her lips.





	My Name on Your Lips

_“…be sure about your feelings, because if you crack that shell and you change your mind, she'll die of loneliness before she'll ever trust anyone again.”_

_Camille Saroyan –Bones, “Harbingers in a Fountain"_

There’s a demon. Because of course there’s always a demon. The Charmed Ones will do their best but not every vanquishing goes right on the first time around no matter how long a witch has been practicing. And this time the demon manages to dissipate without actually being destroyed. The end result is a fog that steals the memories of anyone it touches that isn’t a witch or a demon. Unfortunately for Harry Greenwood, he is neither. Harry barely manages to orb them home before they all collapse onto the now multiple sofas and bedroom furniture that now reside in the Vera-Vaughn attic.

In the morning James Westwell awakens in a strange bed with a woman, a beautiful stranger who is most definitely not his wife, lying beside him. She is fully clothed but still a sense of panic begins to rise. He glances quickly down to assess at his state of dress and instead sees that he is dressed quite sharply. These are the clothes of a man of means, like the wealthy men he works for. Certainly not something James Westwell could ever hope to afford. And yet they fit him so closely they seem almost tailored exactly to his measurements. James sits up and gingerly removes the woman’s hand from where rests warmly against his upper thigh. Looking around he notes that he seems to be in a particularly large attic full to the brim with a rather eclectic collection of furniture. And that a pair of women each on a settee seem to have just awoken and are staring at him.

“Harry?” the seemingly youngest of three calls cautiously out to him, giving him a look of… worry? “You feeling better, Har?” She glances around the room and says on a laugh, “Good thing we kept all your furniture, huh, Harry? I’d probs be on the floor if we hadn’t. Harry? You okay?”

The rapid fire, almost one sided conversation spilling out of the girl and the confusion finally jolts James into action. He leaps out of the bed, holding out his arms lest these girls think to get too close.

“Where the hell am I? Who are you girls? And who the hell is Harry?”


End file.
